there is no way back from here
by thinkatory
Summary: Cecelia backstory and a look into a Victor's life as mentor and former tribute. Implied past rape.


Backstory on Cecelia and partially on Wiress.

* * *

Getting home from the Victory Tour is harder than the Victory Tour itself, which is saying a lot. Cece didn't enjoy killing the other tributes in the arena, especially not the ones who were rotten assholes, but she also doesn't feel all that bad about it, with a few exceptions, until she looks into the crowd and sees the faces of the people who loved those kids.

Her anger just keeps building, then she sees her new home in Victor's Village.

Look, it's not that Cece didn't want her own place at Victor's Village. But when she sees it and when she finally places what used to be there, she flips the fuck out.

"No," she hisses at her stylist, and throws herself against his shoulder in an effort not to scream. "No, no, no - "

"Sweetie, sweetie," Aurelius whispers to her, and turns her face up to him, wipes her tears away. "The cameras are watching."

She exhales and puts a smile on her face and turns around with the best expression of wonder she can manage, and does her best to put the walk-in health clinic that used to stand there from her mind. Aurelius pats her shoulder and she can't wait to get inside, away from the cameras, away from the Capitol, away from all of it.

She thought coming back to D8 as a victor would bring good things - money, fame, and interest in all the diverse people and things their district brings to Panem. But instead the Capitol just destroys everyone else's lives because she was so good at destroying others' lives, literally, that she deserves more than everyone else. It's sickening, and she wants to give it all back, but that would invalidate the efforts of all of her allies, her mentors, and her stylists.

And there's Ben to think of.

* * *

He arrives at her new home that night, and she begs him not to say anything about it because she can't even think about it and she's sure she knows what he'll think and say and do. She pulls him close and kisses him again and again, desperate to have him for the brief time she knows she will, because no one could love what she's become.

Ben nudges her away after a moment, if reluctantly. "Woah, woah," he starts. "Chica, I get you missed me, but - "

"I - " She can't think about it. Any of it. "Please, Benny. Please."

He hesitates more than a seventeen year old guy really should. "I don't know if we should just - "

"Your mama and papa can't interrupt us here," Cece says, and fixes her gaze on him. She's almost got him. It's been four years; she knows what does him in. She undoes the buttons on her blouse, slowly, until he can't help but look. "I really missed you."

"Cece - " Ben sighs, and stops her hands. "Please. Not like this."

"I'll marry you," Cece says, without hesitation; she hasn't thought about this, not really, not all the way through, yet, but it was all she could think about in the arena. _You can't die until he knows for sure that you love him and that you'll be with him forever, however long forever is._ It's been almost a year since he asked, and he's completely stunned. "I'll marry you, now, tomorrow, I love you. I - " Embarrassingly, tears are getting tangled in her eyelash extensions, and she wipes them away and the makeup away, then just cries, deaf to anything he's saying through her sobbing.

"Cece. _Cece_ ," he's half-shouting at her, then he grabs her shoulders and he shocks her out of it, though she screams and recoils. He looks at her, terrified, and she sobs the rest of the anxiety out, shaking her head. "What can I do?" he asks her evenly.

"Water," she manages, and he goes to get a glass.

After a minute, she can take even breaths and not just heave in sad panicky ones, and Ben shows up again. He sits near her, but not too near her, and she drinks the water and tries to think in words instead of the overwhelming brutal physicality of the arena or the nonstop sensory overload of the Capitol and the Victory Tour. Finally, she can speak. "I didn't lie to Caesar," she mumbles. "I wanted to get home to you."

"I didn't think you lied," he assures her. "And it's fine. It's all fine."

"What I did," she starts, and the mere passing thought in her head makes her breath stop in her chest. "What I did in the arena."

"You did to get back to me. And I am so glad to have you back." He presses a kiss to her temple and hugs her.

It doesn't help. "You didn't see it," she says, after a long pause, dully.

"I watched the whole thing," Ben promises her.

"But you didn't see," she tries again, and when he shakes his head she just stares at the floor.

"What didn't - " But her breaths are coming short again, and he cuts himself off. "Come here, chica. It'll be fine."

She curls her fingers in his shirt and tries to remember. You're home. You can't be reaped again. You're safe. "Is your offer still good?" she mumbles.

Ben glances down at her. "Sorry?" he checks.

Cece smiles, weakly. "Will you marry me?"

He grins and kisses her, in a clear answer. It's a good answer, and a great kiss.

* * *

Considering that Cecelia gave her team three weeks' notice about the wedding date, the event itself is huge. The team insists that they have it in the Capitol but she digs in her heels and there's not much they can do to stop her, so it's in District 8, and it's amazing. Somehow the ipecac doesn't make it to the building in time, and she makes sure the leftover food gets sent to the shelters and very few community organizers left in the city. Though people keep trying to needle her about _why the rush_ and all that bullshit, the plan is to get the marriage and honeymoon done and over with in time for the next Hunger Games.

 _Mrs Cecelia Lopez_. It's amazing. She can't stop marveling over it, even on the first day of their honeymoon, and presses her hands to her cheeks after she washes the makeup away from their first appearance. "I can come with you, right?" Ben asks her when she steps out; he's staring over the balcony at the view over the city. "To the Capitol."

"I don't know," she says, considering. "They might want to meet you, but they might want me to go boozing around with sponsors and stuff, and a husband might not be good for that?"

He's on edge now. Uh-oh. "But they know you're married," he checks.

"Yeah, but I also have to try to turn one of these kids into a victor, baby," Cece says slowly. "It's not a big deal."

He exhales sharply. "Yeah, of course not. Just, you know, if one of the tributes becomes a victor, you're on the Tour, right? You'll be gone all the time."

"You can come on the Tour, I promise," she starts, and touches his shoulder.

"I want to come with," is his only reaction. She just nods, and takes his hand, gently guiding him back to their bed. She kisses his knuckles before she lays back, and raises her eyebrows at him. Then he joins her, and she giggles, pleased, pulling the soft sheets around them.

This is so much better than climbing fire escapes.

* * *

She meets Wiress when they're all standing around pretending to get drunk (except Haymitch, who is actively getting drunk with Chaff and Seeder), and despite all of the rumors she's heard she's entirely entranced with the woman. "I don't get it though," she presses, looking on at the hologram she has of her newest device. "How do you get it to react so fast?"

"You know how hard it is to…" Wiress gestures, like a flying insect, and Cecelia clues in.

"To swat a fly?" she tries, and smiles at the happy glint in Wiress's eye. "Yeah, it kind of does that?"

"Same principle. It senses movement and protects a small square-footage with - " Wiress fumbles with words. "With, with electromagnetic - "

"It's fine," Cecelia insists, when she seems to be getting upset, and touches her arm, ignoring the obvious stares from the Career victors and even some of the others. "I think I get it. Why do we need it?"

"Cages. Windows, maybe. No more glass. Nothing… nothing to break through." Her gaze is faraway, and something in it strikes Cece to the core. She knows that look; she sees it in the mirror every morning, reflected back to her in Ben's glasses. And this is her first year but she still feels so stupid for not realizing it earlier. _They're victors._ They're all victors.

They're all broken people paid in blood money and canonized like saints for surviving something no one should have to survive, they all probably have nightmares and flashbacks like she does, and suddenly she likes them all a lot more than she did when she walked in.

"Unbreakable," Wiress says, out of nowhere, apparently finishing her thought from a few seconds ago. Cece looks up at her again, quickly. "No cage should be unbreakable."

Cecelia sighs. "You're right," she murmurs to her, and touches her shoulder, going back to Ben's side. "Did you get me any alliances yet?" she teases him.

"No," Ben says easily. "That woman's looking at you."

"Oh, which one? They all hate me. I beat their tributes just last year and I'm the new kid."

Ben nods at Seeder. "Think you can ally with her?"

"I can try." Ben's right; when Cece looks at her, Seeder looks right back, and sends her a slow smile. "We need to talk when we go upstairs, so don't get too drunk, all right?" She kisses his cheek. "Eleven, here I come," she murmurs dryly.

Ben touches her hand before she goes; she looks back, curious, but he just turns around and goes to speak to a sponsor. Is he really going to help her? Her heart leaps in her chest in plain love, and she smiles despite herself before she goes to Seeder.

"That's your husband?" Seeder greets her with, and it catches her off-guard.

"Um, yes," Cece says, hesitant. "We've been dating for a long time. The arena has a way of narrowing down your priorities."

Seeder's mouth twists into a dry smile. "You're not kidding." She glances over at Ben. "He's handsome. And apparently charming." The sponsor Ben's talking to is laughing, Cece realizes. "You're lucky. No wonder you're a survivor."

Cece freezes. "What do you mean?" she asks, feigning a casual tone.

"Oh, excuse me. Victor," Seeder says, smoothly. "My mistake. Would you like to speak privately in my district's suite later? I think our districts could get along swimmingly this year."

"Hopefully not just this year," Cece says, and regrets it, at least a little, for how optimistic and earnest it sounds. "Yes. I'd love to talk to you. For now…"

"Of course." Seeder smiles. "Flatter the men. Laugh. As much as you can. I'm sure you know how, you're a pretty girl and you got yourself a husband. With the women, they're either going to be stupid or smart, and you probably know what to do with Capitol people of either kind."

Cece pauses. "Why are you - "

"Because District 8 has always seemed a promising district to me, and I find it a shame that there aren't more mentors. It's a problem. The fewer mentors, the fewer victors. I speak from experience." Seeder glances away, and gestures an Avox to bring her a glass of champagne. "Around nine o'clock? We'll have an early morning."

"Yes," Cece says immediately. "Thanks." She regrets that one, too. She's still just a stupid kid. "I'll see you then."

"Did you put in a good word for me?" Haymitch asks Seeder, loudly enough for her to hear, and she blushes and leaves before she can be expected to react otherwise.

It's not really a surprise, but Seeder was right. These Capitol people are so incredibly easy to play, even after only one year playing their games.

This is what she thinks until Yolena, one of her tributes, has her shin hacked open by a Career, and dies of the infection, no treatment or help sent her way no matter how much flattery and smiles and touches on the arm or bottles of champagne she gives to the sponsors.

She should have known the Capitol would teach lessons this way. When the cannon sounds, she feels hope, joy, bleeding from her, slowly, from a nick like a shaving cut. Then her second tribute dies, and Woof hugs her tightly, but she's already starting to numb it out. The cannon is a plot twist to the audience, a comfort to those in the arena, but it's a slow death blow each time to her.

Her fifth Hunger Games as a mentor, she's learned how to keep her face blank at the Reaping, then smile when she takes them under her wing.

She makes no promises.

Ben doesn't complain anymore. She's not with him, either way. Either she's on the tour with a victor or they've been publicly butchered no matter what she's tried to do to stop it, and neither is all that great for their marriage. She curls up with him at night and he doesn't ask her why she's crying or what the nightmare was about unless she starts a conversation.

"I love you," she tells him, late at night, long after the first tribute dies in the 65th Hunger Games.

"I love you too, _chica_ ," he answers, and strokes her cheek.

She closes her eyes, briefly, then looks up at him. "Do you want to have a baby?"

He could be knocked over with a feather, more surprised than she's ever seen him. "Cece - "

"Do you want to?" she asks, and traces his shoulderblade with her fingertip.

"I - " He meets her gaze, as open as the day they'd decided to marry. "I do."

"I'm pregnant," she whispers.

"Oh my god," he says, in a rush, then sits up. "Wait, really?"

"Really," she says, grinning. "We're gonna have a baby, Benny."

He kisses her, then, and she squeaks in surprise, but happily reciprocates and giggles.

(This is the only way to survive in Panem. Enjoy the moments, because they're never long enough, and make you resent the long stretches between them.)

* * *

They're three days into the 67th Hunger Games when Wiress sends her a note. _Come down, please._ It's four AM or something, but she pulls her hair back and some clothes on, and meets Wiress in the suite. "Hi," she says, and yawns.

"I want to talk to you about something," Wiress says, her usual nervous energy permeating the room, and Cece prompts her with a nod and half-smile. "They cut away again. I saw it. I saw the edit."

Cece pauses, first to try to comprehend what that sentence could even mean, then to let it sink in. "They edited the broadcast? They always do that."

"No," Wiress says, firmly. "This is different. They replaced footage. Tried to manipulate it but I saw it. Beetee saw it too."

"Can they do that?" Cece's not even exactly sure what this means, but she thinks she might know and just the idea makes her skin crawl. "Can they..."

"They do what they want, Cecelia," Wiress says, and looks away from her, quickly. "They did it with you, too."

Cece stops breathing for a moment, and her chest aches, and she wishes not for the first time that she could just vanish, but there's Lalana to consider, and the one they're trying for now, no matter how stupid that might be, but that's not the point right now. "I don't know what you mean," she says shakily.

"They only ever really cut one thing," Wiress mumbles. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

Cece bites her lip and presses her fingernails into her palm to wake herself up from this terrible numbness. She hears the cannon go off, feels the warm blood on her face from the practically decapitated Career dead on top of her, and her mouth is dry. "Do you..."

Wiress shakes her head, once, and again, fervently. "Not me. Not that."

"I - " Cece falters. "Who was..."

"District 6 girl," Wiress says, rapidly. "And. And I killed my ally. I killed my ally and I had to watch him die. It was my fault. My - my fault."

Oh, hell. Cece can move, now, so she rushes to her side. "Wiress," she says, and pulls her into a hug. She's stiff in the hug, then eventually hugs Cece around the neck, and Cece has to blink away tears again. "It's not your fault," she finishes.

"You weren't there," Wiress mumbles. "I pushed him."

"On purpose?"

"Didn't look where I..."

"Was going," Cece completes, and hugs Wiress more tightly. "It's okay."

"I want to show you something," Wiress says, a split second later. "I have a draft. Do you want to..."

Cece isn't ready for the moment to end, but she can deal with it. "Yes. Yes, I definitely want to see."

* * *

The 74th Hunger Games have two victors. None of the victors really know what to say to that, and stick to secretive half-smiles. Good. Things might have taken a lifetime to start changing, but they might be changing.

They're going home the next day. Seeder's been drinking herself sick about Rue ever since Katniss Everdeen gave her a memorial from a storybook, flowers and all, and Cece won't stop checking on her. "You're a good kid," Seeder says, contemplative, as they look out over the balcony from 11's suite.

"I'm not a kid anymore," Cece reminds her.

"Everyone looks like a kid from my age," Seeder says, and drums her fingers on the railing. "Quarter Quell this next year."

It makes her chest hurt. "I know."

Seeder shrugs. "At least your little ones are too little to - "

"No," Cece snaps, and stares down at the Capitol, not about to acknowledge this conversation at all. "I don't - I never - I don't."

"You're starting to sound like Nuts," Seeder says, amused, then rolls her eyes when Cece glares. "Fine, fine. I think we have a shot this coming year. You, me, maybe 7. If we work together."

"Against the Careers?" Twelve Careers. Fantastic. Cece scowls at the premise itself. "I think I might sit this one out."

"You can't," Seeder says, and her expression hasn't changed when Cece looks up at her in mild annoyance. "Not when things are just getting good."

Cece considers that, and shrugs, grumpy yet. "It's just young love," she says dryly. "It doesn't solve everything."

"No," Seeder says, "but a good story might."

Cece smiles, just a little. "Stories aren't real."

"Stories are the realest thing, kid. Thought you were smart enough to know that."

"Prove it," Cece says dryly.

"Don't look at me," Seeder says, with a wry smile. "Look 12's way."

Cece glances up at the ceiling, to the floor above, where the two victors now rest. She thinks about young love, about the courage to just opt out, how she never has, for one reason or another. And she nods.

"I'll see you next year," she says to Seeder.

"You better call your mama this time, at least," Seeder answers, wagging her finger.

"Always, Mama," Cece says, rolling her eyes but laughing. She does a quick salute, the three-fingered salute, without thinking about it, and at the change in Seeder's face, she leaves.

"What'd Mama want?" Ben teases her, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Didn't think you'd be coming back down, she has decent booze up there."

"Just someone to tell stories to." Cece tangles her fingers with his and rests against his shoulder. "We should get books for the girls."

"And Monty," Ben says, without missing a beat.

"He barely looks at the books he has now."

"All the more reason to get him better books, Cec - " She kisses him to shut him up, and smiles. "What was that for? Why are you smiling?" he demands, half-joking.

"Things are changing," she tells him, and kisses him slowly. "Now let's enjoy a Capitol drink before we go home and have to be responsible adults."

"Whatever you say," Ben says, amused, and accepts the drink she pours him first. Then she raises her glass, and before he can say anything, she says, "To Panem."

"To Panem," he agrees, surprised, and drinks.

It's not an instant fix. Nothing like the doctors in the Capitol could do. It's a small infusion of hope, and it's just enough to keep her going.


End file.
